Waking Up
by Fififjonka
Summary: Miss Baxter and Andy watch over Thomas as he sleeps after his suicide attempt, waiting for him to wake up. Meanwhile Miss Baxter ponders why she never really believed Thomas' unfriendly and cold demeanour. One shot. Read&Review, please!


If Miss Baxter didn't check on Thomas' breath every couple of minutes, she would say he was dead. He was so pale and so weak… She had been sitting beside him ever since they had moved him to bed, watching him with her heart aching greatly.

"Why didn't you tell anyone…" she whispered. She hadn't realized until now how much she cared for him. The thought of him suffering so much he attempted to take his own life – with her failing to notice – was unbearable for her.

"But you'll be alright, dear child…" she mumbled, taking his cold hand gently, careful not to touch the bandage covering the deep cuts.

"You'll be alright…"

* * *

Miss Baxter guessed that main reason why she had always liked Thomas despite his indisputable flaws was that she had known not only his sister but also his father.

Miss Baxter's own father was kind-hearted and completely hopeless when it came to money. When she was seven they had to sell what had been left of their farm and moved to a small, dirty and foul smelling house. Miss Baxter would hate it wholeheartedly if it weren't for their neighbours. Respectively neighbour – Tamsin Barrow. It was only natural to like Tamsin, she was sweet and gentle. So unlike her younger brother Thomas, cold and arrogant and looking down at everyone. Miss Baxter hadn't seen much of him back then, though. He hadn't befriended her like his sister had. But they would say hello to each other and have little weather talks from time to time, albeit Thomas would always remain reserved.

When it came to Mr Barrow, there wasn't anything suspicious about him in the beginning. He would always smile at her, complimenting her dress or hair or new shoes. He was a blond-haired giant – a complete opposite of his children or a person Miss Baxter would say could be a clock-maker. Mrs Barrow was a fragile and beautiful woman and both her children resembled her strongly – especially Thomas. She wouldn't speak much, though, and would stay in the house most of the time.

And then one night had changed Miss Baxter's view of the Barrows forever, including Thomas.

She had been sleeping over in Tamsin's room for it had been her seventeenth birthday and they had just fallen asleep sometime after midnight when a loud bang had woken them up. Miss Baxter stared into the darkness with her heart racing.

"What was it?"

"Dad," Tamsin whispered. "He's just come from the pub…"

Miss Baxter looked at her. Tamsin had never spoken about anything like that.

"Is he dangerous?" she asked as fear was building up in her.

"He usually leaves _me_ alone," Tamsin said. But her eyes were speaking differently. They listened to the sounds of a heavy man colliding with furniture, mumbling and shouting in anger. Then he crawled up the stairs and leaned against the door to his and Mrs Barrow's bedroom, failing to open it.

"Oh no," Tamsin moaned. "Mum locked herself up."

"Ginny!" Mr Barrow bellowed. "Open the bloody door!"

Judging by the sounds he was trying to open the door by kicking it. Tamsin slipped down her bed and tip-toed to the door, turning the key in it, which proved to be a wise decision as Mr Barrow soon moved his attention to their room.

"Tamsin!" he roared. "I know you're up!"

He tried the handle violently.

"I'm not going to sleep on the floor in my own fucking house!"

Miss Baxter was now pressing herself against the opposite wall, holding Tamsin's hand. She felt like an enraged rhino was on the other side of the door.

"Would you calm yourself down?" they heard Thomas speak.

"No, _Thomas_ …"

The banging and shouting stopped immediately.

" _You_ dare to speak to _me_?" Mr Barrow grunted and Miss Baxter felt Tamsin tense.

"He's going to kill him tonight," she breathed out with terror in her voice. "Thomas _never_ backs away. And dad is so angry…"

"I wouldn't if I didn't have to," Thomas said. "But you're waking the whole house up, you purposeless boozer."

"Thomas!" Tamsin breathed out, shaking her head in desperation. "He just keeps provoking him. Sometimes I think he wants him to beat the life out of him."

"You ungrateful brat!" Mr Barrow spat out. They heard a dull bang.

"No!"

Tamsin rushed to the door and opened it. They saw Mr Barrow having Thomas pinched against the wall. Thomas didn't move a muscle, his body completely defenceless but he kept looking at him with an impassive expression of defiance and disgust. Being three years younger than them he was no match for a man as huge as his father. Mr Barrow slapped him hard and Thomas fell on his knees. He straightened up, blood trickling down his torn lower lip, and Mr Barrow grabbed his shoulder, raising his right arm to slap him again.

"Mr Barrow!"

"Dad!"

Mr Barrow's arm froze in the air.

"Dad, stop it," Tamsin said. Her father turned around, looking at her. Miss Baxter held her breath. He was nothing like the man she knew in daylight. His eyes were glassy, his forehead sweaty and he seemed like not aware of his surroundings much.

"Tamsin… Your mother locked the bloody door."

"I know," Tamsin said in a shaky voice. "But you can sleep in the living room. Come, I'll make the bed for you."

She walked pass him and he hesitated for a moment but after catching Miss Baxter's horrified look he gave in, following his daughter into the living room and leaving Miss Baxter and Thomas in the corridor alone. When the fear faded, Miss Baxter dared to look at Thomas. He was staring after his sister and father before acknowledging her presence.

"I…"

"Don't speak about it anywhere," Thomas said, cutting her short. Miss Baxter nodded.

"You're bleeding."

Thomas touched his lower lip, not realizing it until then.

"That's nothing."

Miss Baxter fought the urge to touch him to reassure him but she knew that was more than Thomas could ever accept and he would most probably be offended by such a gesture.

"Does he… do this often?"

"Sometimes," Thomas said. "Tamsin is the only one who can speak to him when he's like that."

He was standing there wearing his pyjamas and a dressing gown, frowning and with blood on his face, yet there was an odd kind of dignity about him. He looked her in the eyes, his chin slightly lifted and in the way he was watching her Miss Baxter felt he had been challenging her. To do what? To pity him? To offer help? Just to be turned down immediately, in the coldest possible way?

"Thank you for sticking up for us," she said instead. "That was very brave of you…"

Thomas wasn't obviously expecting that and his hard look softened a little as he nodded.

"You're welcome," he said. "But perhaps you should change your mind about sleeping over in our house."

Miss Baxter smiled.

"Why, when you'd be around?"

"Oh, you think I'll take the beating for you everytime?" Thomas asked ironically but Miss Baxter saw his eyes glimmer in mild amusement and smiled back at him genuinely.

"Good night," he said as he returned to his room.

* * *

Miss Baxter woke up from her semi-slumber, rubbing her eyes and shaking off the exhaustion. She quickly looked over Thomas with a stab of fear and guilt for drifting off but relaxed when she saw him breathe regularly. She moved her chair closer to the bed and reached to stroke his cheek gently. She was greatly disappointed with herself for failing to see him struggle so much, not being there for him when he needed it the most, remembering the night he had stood up to their defence. Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes for a while.

There was a knock on the door and Andy peeked in.

"I thought I would just… check if you need something," he said, his eyes jumping quickly around the room, flickering over Thomas for the briefest moment before looking at her.

"You can come in," Miss Baxter said. "And close the door behind you."

Andy did that, walking a few steps further. He managed to look at Thomas this time.

"How is he?"

"Better."

Andy shook his head.

"I had no idea…"

"Nobody did," Miss Baxter said. "Why don't you sit down for a while?"

"Don't you think he'd be against it?"

Miss Baxter smiled.

"I think he would definitely make it _look_ like it."

"But then again – he shouldn't be alone when he wakes up," Andy said and Miss Baxter nodded, thinking exactly the same. She wouldn't want him to wake up alone.

Andy sat down on a chair near the bed, his eyes fixed on Thomas.

"I talked to the others," Andy said. "I asked them to go easy on him, not to ask too many questions or mention this… accident."

"That's very considerate of you," Miss Baxter said. "He'd be grateful."

"That's the least I could do, really," Andy said, hesitating a bit before adding: "He doesn't exactly have a reputation of a friendly person."

"That's what he's built."

"I wonder why, sometimes," Andy said. "He has always been kind to me, helping me with reading… I haven't treated him well last days…"

"I think Mr Barrow rather pushes everyone away than risking being hurt," Miss Baxter said. "There are just few exceptions and you are one of them. But I know he can care a great deal."

Andy's eyes filled with guilt and Miss Baxter knew how he felt.

"I just hope this sad incident would do him some good in the end. Perhaps it'll help him realize things…"

They fell silent and watched Thomas' sleep. His near-death experience was still clearly visible in his face. He was alarmingly pallid, his lips were paper-white and bloodless there were dark circles under his eyes. Never before had he been so vulnerable or seemed so weak. Miss Baxter's eyes fell on the bandages on his wrists. She imagined him making the decision, taking the razor and cutting his skin with the irreversible intention of killing himself. She recalled the night many years ago when he had stood up against his father and shivered slightly at the thought of that brave man being so unhappy and desperate without anyone aware.

"Miss Baxter…"

Andy pointed his head towards Thomas, who stirred in his sleep, taking a deeper breath. A crease appeared on his forehead. Miss Baxter took his hand and he moaned softly and opened his eyes half-way. They were weary at first and there was pain in them. He blinked and focused on Miss Baxter's face and then his eyes shifted to Andy. As the understanding ran in them, Miss Baxter felt his hand tremble and squeezed it reassuringly.

"How do you feel?" she asked quietly. Thomas looked away and closed his eyes.

"How many people know?" he asked instead, his voice weak and hoarse.

"His Lordship and the staff," Miss Baxter said.

"Would you leave me alone?" he asked but Miss Baxter shook her head.

"We are not leaving you, Mr Barrow," she said, giving Andy a look. Thomas' eyes remained closed but his shoulders started shaking with suppressed cry. He managed to lift his left hand, hiding his face behind it. Miss Baxter covered his other hand with both hers. Andy obviously felt abashed at the sight of Thomas' sudden breakdown and made an uncertain move before hesitatingly placing a hand on Thomas' leg.

"You'll be fine," he said. "I talked to the others. Nobody thinks anything bad about you. I don't think they'd mention it at all. You just need to rest," Andy said in an impressively firm and comforting tone.

"I'm sorry," Thomas said at last, in a broken voice.

"You don't have to apologize," Miss Baxter said while Andy frowned.

"Did you really think we wouldn't mind if you… succeeded?" Andy asked.

"I didn't think I would be missed," Thomas said with such honesty it brought tears to Miss Baxter's eyes.

"You thought wrong, then," Andy said. Thomas had regained some of his composure, looking at the younger man.

"There are people who care about you," Andy continued. "Like me or Miss Baxter or Mrs Hughes… People are sometimes too focused on themselves but that doesn't mean they don't care."

Andy smiled slightly.

"Next time you have some problems, Mr Barrow, come to me. I mean – I'm not saying I'll solve it but we can have a drink over it. As my grandfather would say – getting drunk is the solution to all troubles you can have, my dear lad."

Thomas snorted.

"Now, that looks better," Miss Baxter said and Thomas took a deep breath. He looked at them with exhausted eyes but the haunting darkness had been gone from them.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

Miss Baxter and Andy both smiled and Miss Baxter stroked his forearm lightly. She once again remembered the young boy standing defiantly in the corridor. It had taken so many years for him to finally allow someone to touch him and comfort him in his pain. Miss Baxter was glad it could have been her. It was a close call but he had endured. And she would make sure such a thing would never happen again. She wouldn't leave him alone again.

* * *

 **A moment I seriously missed on the show. Hope you liked and let me know! Thanks!**


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